


Roome for a lusty lively lad

by Gwerfel



Series: Tozer & Armitage [1]
Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Pre-Canon, bisexual tozer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:00:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24963409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwerfel/pseuds/Gwerfel
Summary: Solomon usually turns a blind eye - boyish infatuation is more common in the navy than on land, but likely to happen anywhere you find men in close quarters....Early in the voyage, Tommy and Sol catch each others' eye.
Relationships: Thomas Armitage/Sgt Solomon Tozer
Series: Tozer & Armitage [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898272
Comments: 31
Kudos: 69





	Roome for a lusty lively lad

**Author's Note:**

> couldn't resist having a go at these two!
> 
> Thanks be to Kt_fairy for constant encouragement, proofreading, being a wonderful person and vanquishing my excessive semicolons. <3

He’s young, he’s green, and he looks up to Tozer, so it’s nothing out of the ordinary; it has happened before with those types. Solomon usually turns a blind eye - boyish infatuation is more common in the navy than on land, but likely to happen anywhere you find men in close quarters. It happens to Solomon more often than most. He’s not a vain man, but he’s proud, and he knows he looks well in his uniform. He has always drawn looks.

Heather mentioned it first, a few weeks after they sailed from Greenhithe. 

“Got an eye for you, Mr Armitage has.”

The gunroom steward had been coming out of his berth as Heather and Tozer were passing on their way to their next watch. They caught him by surprise, he yanked his curtain back just as they approached, then stood there blinking wildly, eyes round as marbles. When Solomon nodded at him, he’d smiled and looked down, turning pink like a moonstruck girl. 

“He’s young, that’s all.” Solomon shrugs it off.

“Maybe,” Heather inclines his head, “I’d watch it, though, don’t want him going spoony.”

“Nah, he’s harmless.”

Heather doesn’t say any more, he’s not one to harp on a point, but Solomon thinks about it longer than he maybe ought to. It’s common for the Boys to start mashing on the more experienced sailors - Young and Evans already follow Strong about like the sun shines out of his arse. The fact that Thomas Armitage isn’t a Boy puts a different face on it, but Solomon reckons it’s the uniform that does it. That’s no surprise either, being that Tommy’s from a coastal town. Probably grew up watching the redcoats marching past and caught on to all those romantic ideas the recruiters peddle.

Anyway, Tommy’s all right, he’s a good lad, not full of himself like most blue jackets. He’s quiet, but only because he’s listening hard, most of the time. When he does speak, it’s only a word or two; he’s economical in his verbalising, as Heather says. That’s fine by Tozer, plenty of men prattle away morning, noon and night without saying anything worthwhile. 

He thinks of Armitage’s black curls and blue eyes. It’s a rare combination, that, and would be very striking on anybody. 

It becomes plainer to Tozer after Heather has brought it up. Tommy sits near the marines during mealtimes, when he’s not serving the officers, and in the evenings when they are at leisure he always seems to be present. Solomon catches him looking more than once.

He wonders if he ought to say something to Tommy about it directly, but being early in the voyage he prefers to wait and see if it settles itself. Nothing untoward has happened yet, and if he has read Armitage right then he needn’t worry anything will.

He’s in want of a friend, most likely, and although he tends to steer clear of sailors Solomon spares Tommy a few small kindnesses; invites him to speak every now and then, passes time with him occasionally on deck. It isn’t always easy to find mates on a new voyage. The other stewards are an odd assortment - stewards always are - and the job separates them from the men of the fo'c'sle. The way Solomon sees it, they've a long stretch ahead of them, and it won't do for anybody to be lonely.

As the ships cross the North Sea and arrive in Greenland it grows considerably colder, and every few days the steam engines are stoked to warm up the crew. The noise is jarring, it whirrs and rattles through the timber, it doesn't feel right on a ship.

“Last thing I need,” Armitage mutters over his grog on the first evening, "hard enough hearing what Mr MacBean's asking for in the gunroom, now I've got that racket to contend with."

"Bet you've no trouble with Mr Blanky," Solomon chuckles.

"No, he knows to stay on my good side."

"Eh?"

“Went under a carthorse when I was a kid,” Armitage explains, turning his head and pushing his hair back on the left side to show Solomon. The flesh of his ear is deformed, swollen in places, puckered in others. Strangely soft looking. Solomon has a curious urge to touch it.

“Nasty,” he says, for want of anything else to say.

“Can’t hear owt in that one, but the other’s right enough.”

“That why you’re a steward, then?” Solomon asks. 

Armitage shrugs, “always wanted to go to sea. Didn’t matter how.”

After that, Solomon makes sure he always stands on Tommy’s right side. They form a casual intimacy; they are friendly to each other when their paths cross, they share a joke or a knowing look every once in a while, and Solomon is satisfied that Armitage is beginning to settle into the expedition. 

On nights when he has the first watch Solomon passes Armitage’s berth on his way to his duties, he calls out, loud as he dares,

“All right, Tommy,” and waits for the cheerful response:

“Evening, Sergeant Tozer.” 

Just like that, through the curtain. There's a nice, even regularity to it.

While they're coming up around Greenland there’s a bit of excitement - a whole pack of porpoises begins to follow the ships. The creatures are amusing to watch, clownish and sportive, and every man without duty below is up on the deck of Terror, peering over the gunwale to see. The animals seem to know they have an audience, they leap from the waves and twist below the surface, flashing their silvery skin and batting their mermaid tails in the foam. 

"Have a look at this one," Tommy points at a porpoise swimming on its side, fin up out of the water as if signalling to them.

"Clever beast," says Tozer.

Tommy shifts up the gunwale, trying to lean further, and in doing so presses himself against Tozer's left side. Solomon pays it no mind at first - more than sixty men on a ship means no one can get along without close contact. Men sit thigh to thigh during mess, they elbow one another at the wash basin, and at night in their hammocks they bump shoulders. There are enough men gathered to watch the porpoises to warrant a bit of push and shove, but Solomon has more room on his right, so he moves away from Armitage by an inch.

Armitage moves back into the space between them almost at once, without looking up at Tozer, pretending not to take on. He shifts his weight against Solomon, almost leaning on him, hip to shoulder. It isn’t long before they are called away from the gunwale to attend to their duties, but it is long enough for Solomon to feel the absence of Tommy's warm body when they separate. 

That night in his hammock, he spends a guilty half an hour groping under his blankets, thinking of Tommy lying against him. 

Solomon isn’t particular in that regard, never has been. Some men put it down to long months at sea, or moral weakness, but it wouldn’t make any odds to him if he was on land either. A tumble’s a tumble, and there’s fun to be had no matter what shape your sweetheart takes. After he spends, he feels almost ashamed - Tommy has become a good pal. What a laugh if Tozer gets mashed on him now. 

A few days later and Solomon has first watch again. Being a steward, Armitage is exempt, and once the mates and the warrant officers have been cared for, he can retire to his cabin and do as he pleases.

“Evening, Sergeant,” he calls out as Solomon passes. 

“Alright, Tommy,” he glances sideways, then stops. 

The curtain is pulled back. He’s in his shirtsleeves. Solomon has only ever seen him in his coat before. In his own berth he looks more at ease, his face is open and his shoulders relaxed. He is buttoning his cuffs, smiling pleasantly.

“On watch?”

“Aye,” Solomon answers, and can’t help chancing a look about at the little cupboard Tommy calls home. 

He doesn’t know how Armitage gets any sleep in that narrow bunk; he must get knocked against the bulkhead on a stormy night, or else be in danger of falling out altogether. Tozer knew a carpenter once who would use a leather belt to secure himself to his bed place. Give Solomon a good honest hammock any day. Even when he sleeps on land he misses the steady sway of it. Still, nice to have a bit of privacy, he thinks as he eyes the thin curtain. 

“Hope it’s not too cold tonight.”

“You’ll be warm enough down here.”

“Don’t those engines make a racket, though,” Armitage comments, glancing at the boards. “Keep me up half the night.”

“Do they?”

“Aye,” Tommy nods, and looks him boldly in the eye. “Chances are I’ll still be awake when you come off watch.”

Solomon doesn’t know what to say to that. He nods again, and backs away from the doorframe. 

"If you stopped in, you wouldn't be disturbing me."

“Good night, Mr Armitage.”

He passes an agitated few hours on watch, pacing the deck more often than necessary. He wonders what Armitage meant by it, the scolds himself because he knows exactly what Armitage meant. Restless energy begins to grow in his middle, and all he can think of for the next four hours is Tommy's dark curls and white gloved hands. 

There is no nightfall in Greenland in June. The sun does not set over the sea, and tonight that makes Solomon feel queerer than usual. 

At midnight Heather comes to relieve him and he climbs back down into the ship. All is quiet, the men are sleeping. He treads lightly through the fo'c'sle, past their snoring swinging forms. On his way to the midships he has to pass Armitage’s berth again. The curtain is drawn over, but there is a faint light beneath. Solomon stops, twitching the curtain aside with his fingers.

Tommy is sitting up in bed in his underthings, a book on his lap. He drops his feet off the bunk when he sees Solomon, and stands. Tozer enters without another thought, tugging the curtain closed again behind him.

There isn’t much room. Both on their feet, they stand toe to toe.

“You meant it, then," Solomon says, low as he can.

“‘Course.”

“All right.”

Armitage moves even closer, their chests bump. Solomon is just wondering how best to proceed, when Tommy makes his move, deftly unfastening Solomon’s trousers and finding his way inside. 

Nimble as he is with buttons, Tommy is surprisingly clumsy with Solomon's rising prick; he clenches like a vice and twists roughly, pinching the fragile skin. Tozer winces, “have you done this before?”

“Once, maybe.” Armitage ducks his head, abashed. 

“Here,” Solomon takes his wrist, directing him, “not like that, not so tight, do it like… yeah, that.”

Armitage is a quick study, he soon finds a satisfying motion, and Tozer leans back to brace against the wall, closing his eyes. His hands are so soft from the gloves he wears most of the day. There's a kind of luxury in it, mingled with the joyous sensation of having another body close.

Tommy is breathing hard, though Solomon hasn't touched him. He won't, not yet - better to take it in turns, the first time; get a better feel for each other that way. He’s keen for it, though, is Tommy; his cock presses against Tozer's thigh as he leans into him, head on his shoulder, murmuring, "Sergeant Tozer…"

"Call me Sol," Solomon pants.

"Sol."

A surge of arousal blazes through Solomon’s loins like flames licking his belly. He grasps Armitage’s shoulders and whispers, "that's it."

Tommy has the knack for it now, he strokes with bold determination. At the critical moment, he tightens his fingers at the base of his prick, drags up, then quickly down, and Solomon has to grit his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut to stop from yelling out as he spills over Tommy’s knuckles, convulsing and bending at the waist.

It knocks the breath out of him, and takes him a moment to recover - it can catch you by surprise like that, with an unfamiliar partner. Once the cabin swims back into view he finds Tommy peering into his face, searching. Solomon grins to show him it's all right, and shoves him gently back. Tommy’s legs hit the frame of his bunk, and with a hand on his shoulder Solomon steps forward and presses him to sit. Tommy obliges, staring up at him all the while in a kind of wonder, his blue eyes beaming in the low light. Tozer could almost kiss him, but he doesn’t - you never know where a man might draw the line, and in his experience a sailor looking for a bit of a relief isn't always as open to anything affectionate.

He doesn’t kiss him, but he straddles his knee, and unbuttons the front of his drawers, spits into his hand and grasps his prick. Tommy pitches forward, butting his head against Tozer's chest and gasping so quietly Solomon hardly catches it. He strokes him and whispers low into his right ear, "steady, Tommy."

It's the work of a few minutes, Solomon has barely begun to get going when Armitage suddenly grabs at his uniform, fingers clenching and unclenching as he shudders and spends without a sound. He holds him through it for a few moments, and when he releases him Tommy slumps back against the bulkhead. Solomon smiles again, enjoying the sight of him half undressed, his softening prick red and surrounded by a thatch of black wiry hair. His eyes are closed, there is a dreamy smile on his lips.  _ Gone spoony _ , Solomon thinks.  _ You and me, both. _

He packs that thought away for another time and looks down to see to his unform, tucking himself in and buttoning himself up.

"Sol," Armitage murmurs, as Tozer is straightening the front of his trousers.

"Yeah?" He raises his head to answer him and Tommy leans forward and presses a kiss to his lips. It is brief, and very sweet.

Solomon leaves him quickly after that. He squeezes his arm, but doesn’t look back as he slips through the curtain. On the other side he holds his breath until he has reached his own hammock, writhing out of his clothes and crawling into bed with care not to disturb the man beside him. He shuts his eyes and allows himself at last to enjoy the pleasant lingering warmth; the foggy head and the gratifying peace in his limbs as his hammock rocks gently into rhythm with the ship. He thinks of Tommy, and wishes he'd held him tighter, kissed him longer. 

There's nothing can be done about it now, Solomon resolves, but he'll know better next time.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
